Toys
by enigmaofherself
Summary: IIYB canon. REWRITTEN. Jace spent his childhood wishing he could be like his brother. His childhood ended when he realised he would be. Poll winner.


_This oneshot was rewritten in April 2012._

_'Toys' is a oneshot that focuses on Jace, an OC of mine from the 'It's In Your Blood' canon. It is set before IIYB, and gives us some of his background. While it does not feature the Sons, nor any 'Covenant' canon character, Jace's story was voted for by the fans and reviewers of IIYB as the one to be told. _

_Dubhán is pronounced 'Du-vahn'_

_Cáel is pronounced 'Kay-el'_

_I hope you enjoy, feel free to highlight any mistakes or queries to me, and I would much appreciate it if you left me review._

_Much love, as always._

_- dresdenlace_

* * *

_**It's In Your Blood**_

**Toys**

* * *

Jace wanted to be just like his big brother when he grew up. There was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to follow in his footsteps.

Hayden was in every way _cool. _No, seriously! He was wicked awesome. People did everything he said, he never ever went to school and mum _never _told him what to do! His life was so totally perfect.

Or, so it seemed.

In the future, when he's mature and life-worn, Jace will be asked by many people how he got to be the leader of London's biggest gang. His answer will be the same every time, telling them how he grew up in the gang-life, surrounded by the politics of it all from a young age. What he won't tell them is how he never realised it until it was too late.

Jace spent the majority of his young childhood in pure bliss. His father, Matthew Renolds, was a hard-working businessman who spent most of his days in other parts of the country, but he always had time for a phone call with his youngest son, and gave him lots of presents and attention whenever he was home. His mother, lovely Elizabeth, was the best mum anyone could ask for. Jace was unabashedly a mummy's boy, loving to curl up with her while she read him a bedtime story, or bake cookies with her on the weekends. Jace enjoyed school, had lots of friends, and never had any nightmares.

Perhaps most importantly, he had Hayden. Jace couldn't remember a time when Hayden hadn't been in his life, always there for him, helping him with his homework or playing football in the garden with him whenever he could. Admittedly, the older Renolds son was rarely home, always busy with his strange – but _cool – _friends, but he made up for it when he did turn up. There was no denying how much the little blonde boy idolised his big brother, desperate for his attention and his praise.

Jace never noticed anything peculiar about his brother, nor the relationship Hayden had with his parents, nor even the strangeness of his lifestyle at all. Not once did he question why he was gone for weeks at a time, nor how little Elizabeth seemed to invest in her first born. No, Jace saw none of this – and neither did he see what was coming.

When Jace was just ten years old and walking out of school, he was surprised to see his brother standing by the gate of the grounds. Jace, naive with youth, ran up to his brother and expressed just how delighted he was to have him home again. Hayden held him close – closer than normal – and started to walk him home, directing him through the shadows as they walked the back route through the shady town. They talked and teased, Jace running around his brother, laughing as he told him all about the exciting things that happened that day. Hayden said very little about his day, but laughed along with the blonde boy. Jace couldn't believe how happy he was that Hayden was home, and confessed his wish that he be home for his eleventh birthday, which was only a week and four days away, you know!

Jace was so engrossed in his own happiness and wonder, that his young eyes didn't catch sight of the small group of hooded youths that had begun to follow them down the alleyway. He didn't notice when they pulled out knives from their pockets, and he didn't realise that they had began to hassle Hayden until he was called. Jace spun around and the sight of his brother surrounded and being beaten was like a kick to the gut; he stumbled forwards, one hand raised.

When Hayden saw his brother step towards him, he shouted – no, screamed – one thing, and one thing only. He knew, without a doubt, that it would be the last thing that he would ever get to say to his baby brother.

"_Run!" _

Jace hesitated but he had never disobeyed his brother before. Hayden had drilled into him at a young age that he was to do everything his brother said: now was no different.

Faster than his little legs had ever moved before, Jace ran in the opposite direction of his brother. There was a pain in his chest that he didn't think was because of his running, and his vision began to blur, his bottom lip trembling. Still, he ran, arms pumping furiously at his sides as he skidded down the alleyways that he knew off by heart.

He'd only been running for a few moments when a pair of hands caught his arm and hauled him into a narrow gap between two houses. A clammy hand covered his mouth as he went to scream, an iron strong arm holding him against a large chest. Jace watched in unwilling silence and fear as the group that had attacked his brother sauntered past the gap, shouting and sneering his name, laughing as they went. There were stains on their jackets and Jace's stomach rolled, though his young mind wasn't sure why.

When the group were a safe distance away, Jace was released and he turned around to see Dubhán. Immediately he relaxed, throwing his arms around his brother's best friend. If there was one person in this world that Jace knew he could trust beside his own brother, it was him.

After a moment, Dubhán pushed Jace away and gestured to the street. _Come, _was all he said, turning away into the fading afternoon. Jace kept his head down, the brief spark of relief that he had felt at seeing Dubhán having already simmered out; they hadn't gone back for his brother. Something was wrong.

When they reached the Renolds household, Elizabeth ran out and pulled her youngest – only – son into her arms, weeping fiercely as she held him close. Jace still didn't understand but he was very afraid. His mother took him into the living room, sat him down, and told him a story. It wasn't a nice story like the ones she told him at bedtime, nor was it the business tales his father would recite when he got back from work. No, this story was very different – it wasn't even a story at all.

Jace spent his childhood wishing he could be like his brother. His childhood ended when he realised he would be.

Hayden Renolds had been the leader of a Northern gang called _The Scorpions. _It had started off small, as most did, but had taken on rapid growth in the past few months, making its presence known throughout the underworld of the country. _The Scorpions _had always been a respectable gang, but it grew too quickly and people got jealous of their newfound and – believed to be – unwarranted power. The fragile peace between the Northern gangs had been aggressively destroyed, and Hayden, as the main figure trying to reinstate it, was murdered for his efforts. Now that the leader was dead, _The Scorpions _would start to implode, collapsing in on themselves until there was nothing left.

The reason Hayden never went to school was because he couldn't. He never got an education, a job, respectable income. His knowledge was purely gang-orientated, knowing more about drugs than literature, more about guns than maths. Hayden rarely went home because it put his family in danger, and Elizabeth never called him home because she cared more about the welfare of her youngest son than the frequency in which she saw her eldest.

A week and four days before his eleventh birthday, Jace lost everything. He lost all the things he knew of, and many that he didn't. He was taken by Dubhán out of their home and dumped, ungraciously and inexplicably, in the lowly parts of London. The only solace the young boy had was that the tall, silent and unemotional Dubhán had brought his younger brother Cáel with him, providing Jace with some company.

In the beginning, there were others with them, keeping them safe and getting them food, but less than a year later, they had all gone. Dubhán himself had returned to their home town within a few months, leaving the two youngsters to look after themselves. Soon, too soon, they were alone.

As luck – or fate – would have it, the gang life was never far out of reach. The two were quickly picked up by a small, local gang by the name of _Brethren: _a few of the members had discovered them whilst doing a perimeter check, and had taken them to their headquarters. When the leader, B, realised their potential, she immediately enrolled them in a series of training courses. They were taught how to fight, handle weapons, gather food, steal and move unseen through the dead streets of London. Only a few years after the death of Hayden Renolds, Jace and Cáel were being sent on _Brethren _missions throughout the city, gaining trust and respect from their fellow gangsters.

Together – for they were brothers now, never apart – they climbed the ranks of the swiftly expanding gang and joined the inner circle of B herself. While their youth kept them from getting any closer to the top for the time being, the two were content with their new lifestyle, for they were protected, and indeed, they were powerful.

Jace was fifteen when he and Cáel were scouting the streets, the latter more focused on practising with his newly bestowed gun than anyone around them. This was why, when a young girl darted out across the road in front of them, Jace had to slam the older boy out of the way before one of his practise shots hit her.

"Watch it!" he yelled out after her, pulling his own weapon out on instinct. Just then, another girl, maybe a year or so older, ran out after the first.

"Vesper!" she scolded, sounding much older than her young years. "You need to watch where you're going! You nearly got shot, you silly thing!" She crouched down beside the brunette child and pulled her into a tight hug, stroking her hair.

"We need to get away!" Vesper cried, her voice high and full of tears. "He's back and I don't want him to take you!"

"He'll go to sleep," the second girl assured her, pulling away. "Don't worry about those sorta things." She stood up and turned to face the two approaching boys, eying them warily, her hands on her hips. Jace observed her auburn hair and her bright green eyes – and the tear tracks on her dirty, gaunt cheeks.

"Sorry about that," she murmured, scuffing her shoes along the pavement. When neither of the boys said anything, she turned and grabbed Vesper's hand and hurried out of sight. They disappeared into the alleyway behind the houses and soon they were gone. Jace rolled his shoulders, feeling incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden, trying to blink away the piercing stare of the auburn-haired girl.

It wasn't until a week later that the two were walking down the same street, their guns heavy in their hands as they scoured the dirty houses for anything out of the ordinary. It was late, the street completely devoid of human life, only the scuttling of rats shifting through rubbish disturbing the dusk silence. There were others doing the very same thing as them down parallel streets across the whole town, trying to determine a new area for a second headquarters, since the first one had been discovered.

Just then, a muffled scream shot through the air; Jace and Cáel held up their guns, pointing them steadily towards the area it had come from. A moment passed and they relaxed their positions, exchanging shaded looks.

"It came from a house," Cáel noted and Jace nodded, having realised the same thing. They began to walk towards the nearest pathway that lead into the dark alleyway behind the row of houses; instinctively they moved closer to one another, almost becoming one in the shadows.

A door slam; the sound of footsteps; a sob.

"Hello?" Cáel called out softly, pulling back the safety catch on his gun, Jace copying the action. There was the faintest hint of scuffling followed by a hiccup and another quiet sob. The pair crept around the edge of the pathway and into the alley, moving towards the sound; it was Jace that spotted her first.

There, in a tiny alcove that was mostly filled with bin bags, smashed beer bottles and goodness knows what else, was the redhead girl from the previous week. She was curled up into the corner, her skinny grazed knees up to her chin as she cried into her hands.

"Hello," Jace said, moving to crouch before her. Cáel stood close behind him as he scanned the dark alleyway, keeping his gun half-raised as if he expected an attack.

"Hi," the girl breathed back, sniffling as she tilted her head to the side so that Jace could finally get another glimpse of her mossy green orbs.

"Are you okay?" She nodded, letting out a _mhmm _that was so full of tears, Jace wanted to pull her into his arms. He sighed and move to his knees, getting as closer to her as he dared.

"Who are you?" she whispered and Jace smiled a little.

"I'm Jace," he introduced, "and that's Cáel. What's your name?"

"Ryanne."

"Well, Ryanne, do you live here?" She nodded and pointed a shaky finger towards the house opposite them. "Did you scream?" She shook her head and again pointed at the house.

"That was my mummy. My step-daddy is angry with her. She told me to run an' hide." Tears filled her green eyes and she began to sob again, hiding her face from the two boys. Jace swallowed and glanced up at Cáel who looked pained as he watched the crying girl; with a sigh, Jace slid in next to her, kicking some of the rubbish out of way so that he could pull her to his side. At first she resisted his touch but then she threw herself at him, crying pitifully on his chest.

"Abuse," Cáel muttered and Jace nodded, not voicing a reply. They had seen this many times before: these streets held a lot of anger and torment, and many children from the area joined the _Brethren _as a means of escape and empowerment.

"I'm scared," she breathed, as if worried that she would be judged for her confession. Jace leant down and wiped away her dirt-stained tears.

"It's okay," he murmured, rocking her gently. "We'll keep you safe." Ryanne pulled her face away from his chest to peer up into his eyes, then into Cáel's. There was a moment as she scrutinised their expressions in the way that only a child can.

"Really?" He nodded, as did Cáel, who even offered her a sincere smile.

"Really." Jace bundled the girl into his arms and stood up, motioning for the older boy to take his gun so that he could carry the child back to their base unhindered. As they turned to leave the alleyway, Jace noticed a small poppy bruise on her temple and the distinct markings of a handprint around her wrist. His grip tightening around her and Cáel noticed his darkened expression.

"What abou' my step-daddy?" Ryanne asked sleepily, her crying having worn her out.

"Don't worry," Cáel reassured her, ducking down to give her another smile, "you're safe now, little one.'

* * *

_Christ, _there was blood everywhere – and no light, the room plunged into consuming darkness.

"_Jace!" _

The scream of his name shot through the thick, dank air like a bullet; where before he had been stunned into stillness, now he began to push his way through the frenzied creature of limbs and guns that filled the expanse of the _Brethren _headquarters. Not caring who or what was in his way, Jace broke through the human wall and began to climb the stairs.

He took the steps two at a time, his hands scrabbling like claws against the peeling wallpaper as he pulled himself up. He stumbled over the debris on the landing, squinting through the darkness as he fought his way to the room at the far end. His heart was pounding as he lunged for the door, kicking it open with as much ferocity as he could summon, deaf to the sound it made as it smacked against the concrete wall. Not even pausing to think or breathe, Jace leapt into the bedroom. The darkness was even thicker here, shadows curdling in the corners of the small room.

_There! _

He found them: Ryanne kneeling on the floor with Vesper in her arms. Both of them were soaked through from the night rain, the elder girl's hair like blood as it trailed in thick ropes down her heaving shoulders. Jace didn't have time to think about how they had gotten from outside to up here, nor how Vesper had been stabbed. There was a scream of lightning that lit up the room like a wick of flame, turning everything a shrill white: it was then that Jace saw the dark substance pooling over Vesper's pale shirt, seeping from between Ryanne's slender fingers as she pressed down on the injury. Thunder roared as Vesper convulsed, her lips parting but no sound coming out.

Falling to his knees before the two girls – _his_ two girls – Jace tried to process his options as he covered Ryanne's hand with his own, aiding her attempt to staunch the oozing wound. He felt rather than heard the squelch of blood as it leaked, hot and thick, from the ragged tear in the young girl's abdomen. Vesper wept from the pain and Ryanne stroked her hair away from her face, catching the tears before they could fall.

"Are they gone?" Ryanne asked him, panic clear and bright in her eyes despite the swamping darkness. Jace frowned at her as she pulled up the thirteen-year-old higher up into her lap.

"Who?" Jace asked back, but she didn't hear him because at that moment, Vesper's head flopped back against her shoulder, her eyes closed and all the tension in her body gone. Ryanne pressed her bloodied fingers against the brunette's pulse point in her neck, shooting Jace a look of horror when she felt no movement beneath her touch. Understanding her look, Jace immediately pulled Vesper back down Ryanne's body so that she was fully on the floor, and began to perform CPR. When he pushed air into her lungs, she let out a great hacking sound, blood dribbling down her chin. The redhead grabbed her discarded coat and wrapped it around her waist, making a tight knot with the sleeves to keep it pressed up against the wound.

"Who do you mean?" Jace snapped at Ryanne when he was certain that Vesper was breathing on her own again.

"The ones who did this!" she cried, aghast that Jace didn't know who she meant – for if he didn't know, then he can't have gotten rid of them... and that meant –

"_Behind you!" _she screamed. Before Jace could even turn around, something struck him hard across the back of his head, making him gasp out from the shock; he tumbled forward over Vesper's body but was quickly dragged away from her. Blood – his own now – trickled down his neck and began to stain the collar of his jacket, but Jace hardly noticed as he struggled to blink away the impending blankness, desperate to stay awake and alert.

Just as another strike aimed for his head, he twisted out of the way and threw his hands up, catching the weapon in his palms. The force of the cool metal bit into his grip but he kept his arms locked; the attacker grunted with distaste and pulled away, only to bring the weapon back up over his head. Jace automatically covered his head with his hands, but the strike never fell: he looked up to see the faceless man struggling with someone else, spitting out vulgar curses.

Another flash of lightning tore up the room, and Jace saw that the attacker wasn't alone, his three companions all with their attention on the newcomer: _Cáel. _Seeing his brother in arms fighting alone, Jace forced himself to his feet and leapt at the nearest man, throwing his arms around his neck. The man began to scratch at Jace's arms, ripping viciously at the skin, but Jace held on tight. Moments later, the man passed out and Jace dropped him unceremoniously to the floor.

Cáel had tackled the first intruder – who was perhaps in his early thirties – into the shelves, while Jace took on the third member of the group, using his fists to keep him at bay but too exhausted to do much else. The fourth man pushed past the two _Brethren _members to get to the two girls: he kicked Vesper out of the way, deeming her already dead, and knotted his fingers into Ryanne's long hair. She shrieked in anger and pain as he pulled her head down to the floor, using his other hand to thump her in the stomach, leaving her breathless. Grinning a crooked grin, he moved to straddle her and began to tug up her shirt.

"Come on, little birdy," he cooed in her ear, rocking against her pelvis as she fought against him. "Let me show you a good time." With one hand still in her hair, his other began exploring her bare waist, thick fingers pushing past her bra to fondle her breasts. Ryanne cried out Jace's name, doubling her efforts to push the man off as he began to unzip her jeans.

Jace heard her cry and looked over his shoulder to see a sight that made his stomach drop. Realising that Cáel was too preoccupied with his own opponent, Jace set his shoulders and tried to conjure every last drop of strength left in his body. As the man punched out, Jace dodged the fist and darted forward to elbow him in the face, knee him in the groin and finally, slam his head into the wall.

Not even taking the time to see whether the man was still conscious or not, Jace turned on his heel and threw his full weight into the _bastard _on top of Ryanne. The pair of them slid across the room from the force of Jace's tackle, knocking the wind out of them both; but Jace had revitalised energy now, the adrenaline overcoming the weariness in his veins, and he hit the man as hard as he could. He felt the skin break under his fist, and he grinned – a horrible, vicious, bloodlusting expression.

"You think you can hurt my family – _and get away with it?_" he snarled, breaking the man's nose and enjoying the sight of his blood spurting out from the wound. "_No one _touches my family and _lives!" _

He got lost in his attack; time stalled; he saw nothing else – until –

"_Jace!" _How many times had Ryanne screamed his name like that, he wondered. Lightning fled in from the window, and Jace saw the reflection of the other intruder standing poised in the glass. There was something, a knife perhaps, in his grasp. Jace made to turn but his own victim snatched out a hand and caught his collar, keeping Jace locked in a crouch.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Cáel ran at Jace's attacker with a wrathful passion, but the man spun quicker than the teen had anticipated and slashed in an upwards stroke. Cáel twisted from the movement and fell backwards against the wall, sliding down the plaster with his face in his hands. The nameless thug turned back to Jace, disregarding the fallen boy straight away: a grave mistake. Seeing this dismissal, Scar thrust out his feet and knocked the man's legs out from under him. Unable to balance himself, the man hit the floor with a loud thud, catching his temple on the wall as he went, successfully knocking himself out.

Jace, still stuck in the remaining attacker's grip, caught the gleam of the fallen knife, wet with Cáel's blood. He grabbed the blade and thrust it into the man's neck, inciting a tortured scream. Jace watched with a heartless vacuity as the man flopped about on the floor, until finally he stilled. Dropping the knife, he cast a glance around the room to make sure there was no one else.

"Vesper!" Ryanne called, crawling over to the brunette who was convulsing and choking. Jace stuck his fingers into her mouth and cleared her throat of the blood and bile, yelling at the girl to stay awake, to stay _alive._

Just when he began to lose hope, Jace was pushed out of the way by two of the _Brethren _medics. He looked around and realised that the room was now filled with gang-members, the four intruders getting dragged away whilst the others were being reassured of their safety. Two of his own team were beside him, but Jace saw nothing except stars and shadows as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, all colour and sound fading until he knew only silence.

* * *

Jace woke to a bright light and he turned away from its glare. His body ached, making him groan and cover his face with his hands. As his memory clicked into place, he assumed that he was in the local, run down hospital that B sent all her injured guards to, and so he felt able to relax, knowing that he was in a familiar place.

Soft fingertips stroked his hand and he peered through his fingers to see Ryanne stood next to him. Immediately he moved to sit up, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek, turning her head left and right to inspect the bruises and stitches she now bore.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Jace," she said with a smile. "Maybe you should worry about yourself, hmm?" Jace ignored the jibe and began to gaze around the ward.

"What about the others? Vesper?" There was a pause, and Jace instantly thought the worst – but then Ryanne shook her head and gave a small laugh.

"Oh, Jace. Vesper's fine, she's in the next room. It wasn't a deep stab wound, but she's had a blood transfusion because she lost a lot back at the base. She's been awake, but she's exhausted and will need to stay here for a few days, at least." Jace nodded, relief flooding through him, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.

"Cáel?" he asked next, worrying for his best friend.

"I'm here, mate." Jace looked past Ryanne to see the older, darker blonde brother of his, clad in his ever-usual leather jacket and scruffy jeans. Yet, Jace saw none of that, only seeing the long, thin gash that ran diagonally across Cáel's face, stitches holding together the deepest parts of it.

"Oh, fuck," Jace breathed, feeling guilt and regret at the sight of his closest friend's wound, knowing that he had got it as a result from trying to save him. Cáel sighed and moved further into the ward, coming to stand beside Ryanne who subconsciously leant a little into his side.

"It's fine," Cáel said good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around Ryanne's shoulders.

"Personally, I think it looks awesome," Ryanne said with a mischievous smile. "You'll be like... Scarface or something." Cáel raised an eyebrow at the redhead who just giggled, stepping away from him to rest her elbows against Jace's bed.

"That's _Mr _Scarface to you," Cáel drawled, before turning to Jace with a serious expression. Ryanne swallowed thickly and peered up at Jace from underneath her eyelashes, alerting him to the fact that something was wrong.

"There's something you need to know, mate." Cáel sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, never breaking eye contact with the younger boy.

"B was killed last night in the raid, as was King, Sky and West – all of them, gone."

"The entire court," Ryanne whispered, shedding a tear for the deceased. Jace stared at Cáel, understanding the point behind his words perfectly as if he had screamed it in his ear. He went cold, his hands clutching at the bed sheets; Ryanne ran a gentle hand down his arm, trying to reassure him but her touch went unnoticed.

"I'm next in command," he whispered and Cáel nodded, grave and stoic.

"You're the boss now. You're the leader of _Brethren._" Jace sucked in a shaky breath, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"But... I can't lead the _entire _gang! I don't want to be like Hayden." Cáel sighed, an otherworldly sound, and rested his hand on Jace's leg.

"I don't want to be like Dubhán, who is no doubt dead by now too, but I'm your second in command whether I like it or not... and you're our leader. There's no one better, Jace. Only you."

"You can do this," Ryanne said with the utmost certainty. "You and Cáel, together, can make_ Brethren _better than it ever was!" Jace stared at her, searching deep into her mossy green eyes – the same eyes that had spoken to him all those years ago when he had found her, cold and crying in the corner of the alleyway. Eyes of truth, eyes of strength.

"You believe I can do this?"

"Without a doubt," Cáel confirmed. "I'll be with you every step of the way." Jace sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose I don't have a choice."

He never did.

"Come on," Cáel said, eager to change the subject. "You look like shit in this bed. Let's get out of here – I'll go get some grub for us, yeah? You hungry, baby girl?" Ryanne laughed and stood up straight, pointing a teasing finger at him.

"That's _Miss _Baby Girl to you, _Scar-boy." _Cáel rolled his eyes and pulled her in for a kiss on the temple, before dismissing himself from the room. In his absence, Ryanne climbed up onto Jace's bed, sitting cross-legged at his feet.

"I was thinkin'..."

"Yes?" Jace asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, it's gonna take a few weeks for the transition from B to you to actually take effect, right?" Jace nodded, very familiar with the process that the gang will have to follow in order for Jace to be established as the new boss. Until he was crowned – so to speak – the leader, the gang would have to regroup and all those who were killed in the raid would need to be put to rest.

"How about we go to Ireland for a few days? Not even a week. Just to cool off, get away from it all and recover? Crash in a hotel, get some food, see the sights... maybe make some contacts for the gang or something?"

"Ireland?" Jace repeated, pondering the idea. It was pretty tempting to just pack up and get out of London for a couple of days, despite his newfound leadership.

"Yeah! I've always wanted to go there, and I've got a food feelin' about the place. You never know, we might meet someone special up there."

"I don't think we can fit anyone else into our lifestyle, babe." Ryanne dismissed his words, too excited about her plan to listen to any negativity.

"I think we have room for one more. Come on, it'll be fun! An adventure, right?"

"Baby, I think we've had more than enough adventure already." Ryanne laughed and sunk down into the bed next to him, putting her head on his chest like she always did. He stroked her thick red hair, leaning back against the headboard.

"I'm following in my brother's footsteps," he murmured, knowing that Ryanne would understand straight away. She sighed, doodling circles on his chest.

"Then you're walking a good path," she replied. "It led you to me, didn't it? Anyway, just because you're going down the same route, doesn't mean you'll end up in the same destination. Same playpen, different toys."

"Different toys," he murmured, staring up at the ceiling, and beyond.

"Mhmm. Didn't anyone ever tell you? We're all just toys here."


End file.
